Page 18 of The Bro Date
Ignoring the doubt in my gut, I quickly text Andy back, agreeing on the time and place. Excited butterflies swarm my belly even though I feel like I might throw up, too.
I need to choose an outfit that isn’t screaming “desperate and trying too hard.” My closet is pretty tiny, so I couldn’t even bring a quarter of my wardrobe from home. And now, the other three-fourths are under lock and key, where I no longer feel welcome.
I decide on a soft cream T-shirt with my favorite light-wash baggy jeans. Comfortable yet trendy, I know Tate and Daija would approve. With a confident smile that I try so hard to fully embrace, I head to the bathroom to brush my teeth for the third and final time.
Guess I’m ready.
Squeezing the banister in a death grip, I descend the stairsvery, very carefully. My knee is feeling a lot better thanks to Shane’s strict icing schedule, but I’d prefer not to fall down steps again. I slip into my white sneakers lying haphazardly by the front door and lock up, jiggling the handle to make sure.
The fully loaded Audi Q3 my parents bought me for high school graduation two years ago is parked in the driveway waiting for me, but as I slip into the driver’s seat, I find myself wishing I was curled up in the passenger seat of Shane’s beat-up old pickup instead. Where I feel safe.
A sudden surge of nervousness wells up, making me pause.
Why does it feel so surreal to go on a date, and why is my heart galloping uncomfortably?
Something deep down screams Shane’s name, but I ignore it, locking away those painful, unrequited feelings.He doesn’t like boys.I need to move on.
I snap myself out of it, taking a deep, calming breath and starting the engine. A text pops up from Daija before I leave, wishing me luck and reminding me to send my location, so they can make sure I don’t get kidnapped. The reassurance is perfectly timed, and I smile, doing as told before backing out of the driveway and heading to the coffee shop.
Time for my first date with a guy.
CHAPTER SEVEN
SHANE
“Hey, you know I’m not a gossip, right?” Jaycee whispers, and I immediately sigh, not wanting to chitchat with anyone while I’m working, even though she’s always been nice to me.
“Yeah . . .” Never really thought about it. I wish she would just tell me whatever it is she wants to tell me.
“Well, I’m pretty sure I just saw your friend Toby walk into the coffee shop across the street with a guy I’ve never seen before. A pretty hot guy, actually.”
“What?” I ask, not truly processing her words as I flip a burger and shake the fries so they don’t burn.
“They just sat at a small table in front of the window,” Jaycee says like she’s announcing a sports game and giving me a play-by-play. “He just reached out and tugged on one of Toby’s curls. Now he’s holding his hand out on the table, waiting. Oh.Oh!”
“What?!” I repeat a little louder and a lot ruder. My heart drops into my stomach, and I nearly splash grease on my bare skin.
When Toby came out to me the other night, I can’t say I was completely surprised by the news. Growing up, there were some signs, and the fact that he never dated girls or even talkedabout them was one. I’m just glad he feels comfortable and safe enough with me to share that part of himself now. But I am a little worried about him dating. Toby is an extremely attractive person. I’m secure enough in myself to admit that. But he’s also way too trusting, a little naive, and extremely new to the whole gay scene. And I know for a fact that he’s a virgin.
A more intense urge to protect Toby flares to life inside me. Something . . . Primal.
“Sorry, babe. They’re holding hands. Looks like your boy’s on a date . . .” Jaycee says.
“Cover for me?” I rip off my apron, not giving a shit if I get in trouble or even fired. I will never let some douchebag take advantage of Toby.
Ever.
“I can’t cook!” Jaycee cries, but I ignore her and rush out the back door so no one sees me.
I sneak down the tiny alleyway between the café and the clothing boutique next door, squatting behind the dumpster and peering around. I’m fully aware of the creep I’ve just become, and there’s no going back now.
I watch Toby while he sits across from a guy with gold-framed glasses, neatly cut brown hair, and a way-too-tight baby-pink polo. Toby smiles wide, his dimples popping before he takes a sip of what looks like a cappuccino. He’s raptly listening to something the other guy is telling him, using a lot of exaggerated hand gestures. Toby suddenly tips his head back, laughing enthusiastically. His curls bounce, and the other man’s face lights up in accomplishment.
Unfamiliar jealousy roars to life in the pit of my stomach, and I look away, clenching my fists as I stare at the dirty pavement.
The door to the kitchen suddenly flies open, banging against the brick exterior and making me jump. Raúl steps out, sneering in my direction. “What the fuck are you doing out here?”
“Fresh air,” I deadpan, refusing to let him fluster me.
